Chapter 13: Chaos...

"Iratus semplar plus putat posse facere quam possit.
The angry man always thinks he can do more than he can..."

-   Albertano of Brescia, Liber Consolations

"Must not all things at the last be swallowed up in death?"  

-   Plato

Beware: "In revenge and in love woman is more barbarous than man."

-   Nietzsche - Beyond_Good_and_Evil (1885-1886)


*****************************************************************

It was some time before Cassidy's forces even realised they were under attack.

Crisis had taken great care in the selection of her route to the campsite, her senses telling her where the fewest guards were on watch. One of the guards on the eastern side had foolishly pursued a pair of wolves out and away from the rest of his forces and he had become lost. It took Crisis only a matter of moments to snatch him up and silence him quickly. As he dissapeared down her throat, she closed her eyes and listened for the next closest guard to make sure she hadn't been detected. Less than a minute later, her fingers were wrapping around the second perimeter guard and shovelling him into her gaping mouth. With a sharp bite she stopped him crying out and swallowed him shortly after.

There was no playing around now, no time for fun and games, this was serious...

Slowly she slithered closer to the flickering fires...

*****************************************************************

Isador had no idea where he was going. He and Herman had been following Crisis's trail for some time, and he couldn't move nearly as fast as the Naga. His limbs were aching from non stop motion, and Herman was barely keeping up as it was. With a frantic look in his eyes, Isador skidded to a halt and looked around in horror.

Blackness.

Nothing but endless blackness stretching out before him. From the sounds of the wind he was at the edge of a clearing, but yet there was no light shining down from the moon. He could hear nothing, but he felt a familiar chill down his spine...

"By the stars!" He heard the rush of air and he turned and dived, tackling Herman onto the ground as the shape slashed over his head. Standing and dragging the confused handyman with him, he turned and dashed off across the clearing - which was now as brightly lit as it should have been.

The shadow behind him rose high, blotting out the moonlight as it began to chase after Isador. He had only made it halfway across the clearing before he felt the tendrils of darkness begin to wrap around his limbs. He heard Herman cry out, terror gripping his heart as the blackness threatened to engulf them...

A high cry of amusement echoed through the clearing and for a moment the shadow paused in its assault. There was the sound of bells and a moment later the entire clearing was bathed in bright red light. The shadow arched back and rose into the air, contracting down to the size of a wolf as a new figure entered the clearing, the red light glowing from something gripped in his hands. It took a moment for Isador and Herman to get used to the dazzling red light, but soon the figure came into focus.

Not walking, but cartwheeling towards them, came a figure clad in purple and yellow...

Herman yelled in horror and turned to run, but Isador caught his hand and held him fast, drawing his sword.

To their immense suprise however, Malcolm continued cartwheeling straight past them and towards the shadow in the air. When he came close enough he stopped, landing perfectly on his feet, his closed fist glowing bright red.

"You don't like the light do you?" Came the mocking voice of the sorcerous jester.

The shadow expanded and swooped down to engulf him, but with a grin the jesters fingers opened. The fireberries in his hand were allowed their full luminescance, and the shadow flew backwards as though blown by a furious wind, its form warped and writhing.

"If I turn around, Herman the Handyman, and see that you and your ridiculous friend aren't running very fast in the other direction, then I shall be most angry! You have not yet become boring enough for me to desire your death just yet - but I'm in the mood for killing, and you happen to be the only two around... SO HOPPIT!"

The two men didn't need telling twice, and as Malcolm skipped off after the fleeing shadow, Isador and Herman continued on down the path of snapped branches and bracken that heralded the path of Crisis...

****************************************************************

Cries rang out around the encampment as the troops were alerted to the presence of the enraged Naga.

Crisis had a look of cold fury etched on her face as her tail whipped about, scattering soldiers left and right, only to be snatched up by the half dozen in her hands and stuffed unceremoniously into her cavernous mouth. No delicacy was needed now, and the anger was evident in her ruthless assault. Occasionally an arrow would pierce her skin, but so insignificant were the wounds that Crisis barely even noticed. Without flames to light them, the arrows of Cassidy's soldiers were useless against the Naga.

Cassidy himself was some distance away, standing outside his tent, patiently watching his troops getting devoured by Crisis. Casually he pulled on his gauntlets and snapped his fingers. A figure clad in red appeared beside him, but not red like his soldiers. This was deep dark blood red, and the hairless body that showed in the gaps of the red leather was muscular in an unnaturally stretched looking way. The assassins wrist blades were slick with searing poison, and his face was twisted in a constant grimace of pain.

"You know what to do." Cassidy said as he turned and stepped into his tent.

The humanoid figure grunted a response and sprinted with bewitched speed towards the raging Naga...

Already, Crisis's hate fuelled assault was beginning to go awry. For every handful of soldiers she consumed or crushed, another dozen was there to take their place. And they were beginning to wise up to the uselessness of a frontal assault. As the man attempted to keep their distance, long ropes were being flung at Crisis. She couldn't understand how they expected to cause her hurt with nothing but ropes, so she continued to batter away at them like a fang lined sledge hammer... However, all at once something was wrong.

She tried to lift her right hand which had scooped up a handful of soldiers, but found something was holding it back.

"What?!" She cried out, seeing rope after rope being tossed over her hand and caught by troops on the other side. There was a sharp pull and the ropes went taught. She closed her fist tightly, crushing the soldiers inside it to a bloody mess in the process, and attempted to free herself, but with only partial success. Moments later she felt a sharp tug on her back and after a split second of terrified resistance she was slammed face down into the ground of the campsite. Grappling hooks were flying in every direction and Crisis screamed in fury, unable to move anything but her one remaining hand. She lashed about, trying to grasp at the swarm of ropes pinning her to the earth, but to no avail.

With one final effort she reared back, managing to raise herself partway off the ground... but she felt something at her throat, a small jab pressed against her skin. She froze in the spot, too terrified to move as her senses focused on the sword that now lay across her jugular, held tightly by a bald human whose heart beat faster than most...

A cruel laugh floated across the battlefield towards her and Crisis finally came face to face with Cassidy.

The obscenely smiling man was sauntering towards her with a long burnished iron tool in his hand. It resembled a cattle brand, but far sharper.

"So... you beasts do have some fight in you... good. I hate a pointlessly easy conquest." Cassidy's voice echoed off the trees surrounding the otherwise silent campsite.

"I'LL KILL YOU! I DON'T CARE HOW MANY OF YOUR TINY MEN GET BETWEEN ME AND YOU, I'LL KILL YOU!" Crisis let loose a torrent of rage, angry tears filling her eyes as she fought to keep herself still, lest the assassin draw his blade.

"Oh I somehow doubt that... See, we're used to doing battle with monstrositites... It doesn't matter how big you are or how many of us you think you can kill... arrogance and hatred always get the better of you all in the end... your Dryad friend thought she could stop me, and now she's matchwood... pity you're all flesh, we can't even burn you for fuel." He now stood a scant few meters in front of Crisis, close enough for her to lean down and swallow if it weren't for the assassin...

"You... are a slimy little vermin... and you will die before this night is through..." Crisis breathed icily.

"Unlikely... Kill her."

There was a fountain of blood across Crisis's throat...




And the assassin fell dead to the ground, the arrow protruding like a skewer from his skull. Crisis and even Cassidy looked over with suprise to see a tall dark haired human standing at the edge of the campsite. At his feet lay half a dozen dead soldiers, and in his hands was one of the fallen men's crossbows.

"Isador!" Crisis called, her heart beating wildly, "KILL HIM!"

Cassidy heard a cachophony of noise erupt from around the edges of the clearing. From the south came a second naga, with short pink hair and a scowel on her face.
From the west came Melany, with the re-armed Gruber at her feet.
From the north came a golden eyed, orange haired Fairy who stood as tall as Melany, and from the east came Herman and Isador, eyes burning with cold hatred...

"CASSIDY - YOUR HOUR HAS COME!"

And at that moment, all hell broke loose...

Total Chaos...